


All these walls I'll break

by datetheplants



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: AU, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hogwarts AU, Hufflepuff, M/M, Newsies - Freeform, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, gryffindor!race, hogwarts newsies, hufflepuff!albert, newsies au, newsies fanfic, newsies fic, ralbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 12:09:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datetheplants/pseuds/datetheplants
Summary: That was what he asked the Sorting Hat.“I want to be who I am.”





	All these walls I'll break

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Hogwarts or any of the characters.

Albert DaSilva told himself that fifth year is going to be a good year. It was actually going quite well. He hasn’t run into any of his cousins yet, he’s already halfway through his books and he’s planning on trying out for Quidditch. He hasn’t gotten himself into any trouble. He has been actually having fun but he was also expecting for something to catch him right around the corner.

He was right on a fine Saturday morning.

“Give me back my wand,” he said, calmly.

Morris Delancey, a sixth-year Ravenclaw, snickered and raised Albert’s wand.

“I can snap this in half,” he taunted.

“I’ll snap you in half, Delancey,” blurted out Albert.

It didn’t take much for his cool to disperse.

Morris raised an eyebrow at him and held the wand with both of his hands. Albert took a step forward, hands clenching into fists.

“What are you gonna’ do, DaSilva?”

Before Albert could take another step, someone called out from behind him. He didn’t need to turn. He knew who was always roaming around the hallways and interfering in fights before they could even escalate. It was quite ironic. Jack Kelly, himself, often got into fights.

“You have your bodyguard at your beck and call,” said Morris to Albert and then grinned. “Ah, _bodyguards._ ”

He wanted to punch him.

“You’ll be needing several if you don’t lay off, Delancey,” spoke Anthony “Racetrack” Higgins as he came to stand beside Albert.

Morris glared at him. “Shut up.”

“ _Witty._ ”

Jack stepped forward and snatched the wand from Morris’ hand which caught him off guard. He scowled at them and shoved his hands inside his pockets. Albert felt relief throughout himself as he finally got ahold of his wand again.

“Three wands against one,” pointed out Jack, lightly.

“I’m not stupid enough to start a duel here, Kelly,” snapped Morris.

There was a snort from Race as he slung an arm around Albert’s shoulders and gently turned him around. Albert elbowed him in the ribs and glanced over his shoulder.

“Running away, DaSilva?” called Morris.

“Leave him alone, Morris,” cut in Jack.

“What? Are you going to take house points?”

“No, I might just talk with the head of Ravenclaw.”

Race tugged Albert and he let himself be led away, feeling a frown forming on his face and his hands bawling once more into fists.

“Don’t mind him, Al,” consoled Race as he released him. “Everyone knows Morris and his brother are jerks.”

“I could have taken him,” muttered Albert.

Race shrugged. “No doubt about that ever since you punched me.”

They rounded a corner and went down another hallway, passing by lines of paintings with moving subjects.

“That was first year, Race,” said Albert, glaring at him. “In my defense, you were running your mouth off.”

“My opinion still stands.”

Albert sighed and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Jack following after them.

“We shouldn’t have left him alone with Delancey,” he said.

“It’s Delancey we should probably be worrying about,” quipped Race as he zipped up his jacket.

They reached the end of the hallway and Albert stopped. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to go back to Morris and Jack and show them and Race that he could really stand for himself. He didn’t need saving. He would have taken down Morris with or without a wand.

“What’s wrong?” asked Race as he stopped and walked back to him.

Albert looked up from the ground to him. Race was only taller by two inches or so, something the boy loved to remind him. He could still see him as the first year with a bloody nose with a bright smile on his face as he introduced himself to Albert.

“I’m not totally vulnerable just because they like to pick on me, you know.”

There was a hint of a smile on Race’s face but Albert didn’t have to check if there really was because Race’s eyes always seemed to show everything.

“I know,” he assured. “I just wish you don’t have to face them alone.”

Albert wanted to say something but he couldn’t find the right words because truth to be told, Race has always been there and no matter how much he told himself that he could do anything, it wouldn’t be bad to have Race beside him. Albert wasn’t sure how to say that.

“Say hi to the guys for me, alright?” said Race and waved before walking off to the other direction.

He stared after Race whose arms swung so naturally in his sides and his head held high. Albert’s father had taught him to walk like that when he was little. His father, an Auror, was a Gryffindor when he went to Hogwarts and everyone thought he would follow in his footsteps.

He adjusted his scarf, black and yellow, and jogged after his friend.

“Racer!”

Race stopped at hearing his name and slowed down his pace so that Albert could catch up. They didn’t talk as they walked side by side. Albert went where Race went or was it the other way around? He doesn’t really know anymore. He noticed that it has always been like that between them two. He noticed it when they would catch each other’s gaze from their respective house tables when certain announcements are made. He noticed it when either one of them would immediately sit next to each other in class. It was just as well. There are five students from each house and most of their classes together only allowed two to sit in one table. They gravitated towards each other easily.

They reached the Astronomy Tower and Albert felt the wind nip at his skin before they arrived. He dropped down on the platform and took out his wand so it didn’t stick him in the leg. He set it beside him and looked to where Race was leaning against the railing.

“Sorry I was an ass back there,” spoke Albert.

Race grinned. “Barely. You should pick fights with me more often.”

“I pick enough fights with you, Race. I don’t really want to land a detention this week.”

“Why not? Jack’s a prefect and he’s always in trouble.”

Almost anyone could attest to that. Jack often gets called in the office by Miss Medda or Pulitzer or any other professor for a misconduct or two. He always seems to come back with an easy smile, though. But anyone could attest that Jack Kelly has a good head on his shoulders. He was the one who defended Albert when he was just a first year.

“I don’t want to pick fights,” said Albert, lightly.

There was a frown from Race.

“But you seem to be… angrier,” he hesitantly said.

“It’s just my cousins,” Albert waved off. “I spent the whole summer with them.”

Race nodded. “You shouldn’t let them get to you, Albo.”

“Everyone says that, Race.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easier said than done.”

Albert rubbed the back of his neck. He had just said he didn’t want to pick any fights. But he also said that he’s determined to have a good year but those are all going down the drain.

He didn’t lie. He had spent his whole summer with his cousins. He had spent his whole summer with his family and relatives. He was used to feeling left out in conversations. He was used to them asking how he is in his own house and then just nodding and making sounds. He still made an effort to get along with them. He never treated them differently.

It just hurt when they did it to him.

He was so afraid when he was little. His whole family belonged to the house of the brave. His father called him his ‘little lionman’ and all his aunts told his mother he would grow up to be just like his father. His uncles always told him the stories of the witches and wizards who saved the world of magic. His mother told him what the Gryffindor dormitory looked like. His cousins- well, his cousins liked to put on shows where the heroes win. Gryffindors always win, they say.

He had been so afraid that he wouldn’t be like them. He felt like a fraud, being young and surrounded by them. He didn’t feel brave enough. He wasn’t like them but he put up a front. Then, he came to Hogwarts and he knew surprises would be coming his way. He was going to be in Gryffindor. He just never expected the Sorting Hat to tell him that he could choose not to be.

“Your house doesn’t define you.”

He glanced at Race before he looked away and nodded. He has heard that many times.

_You define your house. You are the one who brings it to life. You are the reason why that house is known for something._

“I’m going to try out for Quidditch,” he spoke, wishing to change the conversation.

He imagined Race perking up at that. He, himself, was one of the Gryffindor chasers.

“Well,” said Race. “Don’t hurl those bludgers at me, Al. We’re friends, alright?”

Albert had to smile at that. He had played enough Quidditch with him over the past summers to know that he had pretty good aim and Race was scared of that.

“I haven’t even tried out yet, Race,” he said.

“Come on. Darcy knows you play well. All of the teams look out for potential members. You’re on the list, DaSilva.”

He looked at him to retort something but forgot the words. Snow was already falling and Race was smiling at the sight of it. Albert always thought he had a nice smile. He wondered how it was always there. He had smiled, for goodness’ sake, after Albert punched him. He had smiled when he introduced himself. He smiled the following day when he dropped down on a seat beside Albert on the Hufflepuff’s table. It was a constant thing in his life, much like magic.

He dropped his gaze to the floor and sighed.

A good year. He was going to have a good year and he didn’t want to spend it moping around. He stood up, picked up his wand and walked to where Race was standing and leaned on the railing beside him.

“I wish you wouldn’t see so little of yourself, Albert.”

He glanced at Race. “I don’t.”

“You do,” trailed off Race, gently. “You ace classes and every time someone congratulates you for it or say something nice to you, you wave it off and say that everyone could do it. And it’s true. Everyone can do it but no one does your work like you, Albert. It’s amazing how you easily get the spells and have special connections with the plants and creatures.”

Albert wished he would stop. Sure, people talked to him about how he was a fast-learner. He always thought that anyone could be better.

“I _am_ the best,” he joked.

Race smiled at him. “It’s not just that, dumbass. You’re one of the kindest persons I know and not just because you’re a Hufflepuff or anything. You’re kind to your family even though they don’t do the same to you. You’re even nice to the Delanceys.”

“Not for much longer,” mumbled Albert.

Race nudged him and he nudged back before the silence engulfed them for a while. They heard laughter and shouts from the grounds and even though Albert couldn’t quite see them clearly, he was sure that it was JoJo with the others. They were always so loud.

“I don’t always feel brave, you know,” spoke Race.

Albert nodded. “No one does.”

“You know how small I was when we were younger, right? I mean, I’m still skinny now but what I’m getting at is that I was scared every time I stepped out into the common room because I kept thinking I would get picked on.”

Albert remembered how Race used to be the shorter one of them two. He had been small for an eleven year old and Albert knew that there were others who thought so as well. Albert had found him crying behind a statue after a couple of Gryffindors had pushed him around.

Race had been small up until their third year and Albert was there for him.

“You never picked on me,” trailed off Race. “Not like _that_. I kind of wondered why you still stuck with me.”

“You didn’t pick on me either,” whispered Albert.

Race laughed. “Well, not anymore after you punched me.”

He could still recall that day. Race had said something bigoted while trying to make friends with him. Albert didn’t want to hear any of it and that was how he landed his first detention and it was with Race, of course.

He glanced at Race and found that he was already looking at him.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” continued Race. “So, you try out for Quidditch and duel the Delanceys next time in the hallways just because you can.”

Albert smiled despite the constricting feeling in his chest.

“That’s not a really good pep talk, Tony.”

Albert thought Race’s eyes brightened at the mention of that name. Few people called him by it. He gazed at the ground for a moment before he looked back up at Albert.

“Alright, I know it doesn’t mean that much coming from me but I think you’re brave, Albie. You’re brave for being who you are.”

That was what he asked the Sorting Hat.

_“I want to be who I am.”_

And it shouted ‘Hufflepuff’. His cousins and their friends who knew Albert had shaken their heads and he knew that there was already a part of them that knew he wouldn’t belong with them. The Hufflepuff table had erupted into applause as he stumbled his way towards them. And he thought it would be bad. He expected the worst but the common room had engulfed him. Arms had been slung across his shoulders. There was a boy who had such a long name he simply introduced himself as JoJo and he had smiled so welcomingly that Albert thought he finally belonged somewhere. The others had followed. Buttons. Crutchie. Henry.

It was the first time he had friends and so many more had followed. He always thought that there were barriers. He thought there were boundaries when you’re face to face with a kid whose robes differ from yours. It turns out that there wasn’t much when he met Race.

They turned to face the snow again. They stood in the Astronomy Tower until the others from below went back inside. They stayed there, talking about nothing and everything. At one point, Race’s hand found Albert’s. He didn’t pull away. Race was so warm and familiar, much like magic.

“Hey, Race,” he spoke after a moment of silence. “When you said that it doesn’t mean much… it does. It means the whole world, Tony.”

And Race smiled. Yes, much like magic.


End file.
